


Worth Fighting For

by Therapeutic_Steter



Series: Prompt Fics [32]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (sort of), Alpha Sheriff Stilinski, M/M, Peter Hale & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Pre-Slash, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Werewolf Sheriff Stilinski, Young Peter Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 01:02:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13823190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Therapeutic_Steter/pseuds/Therapeutic_Steter
Summary: anonymous  asked: young Peter has a big fight with Talia+parents and his now on the way to his BFF Stiles, to get some support and Stilinski-family-feels.





	Worth Fighting For

"I said no!"

Talia's voice echoed in the dining room, reverberating with the growl of an Alpha. Peter bared his neck automatically, eyes clenched shut as tears of frustration welled, instincts overriding his mind. He shoved away from the table once he could get his limbs to stop shaking, knocking his chair down in his haste to get out.

"Peter!" Talia snapped, standing as if to follow.

"You're not my mother, Talia!" Peter shouted, refusing to stop, eyes dead-set on the door. If he could just get out—

"But I am your Alpha! And you will listen to me!"

Peter's wolf was whining, a loud, distracting sound in his head. Talia was getting closer now, tugging on their pack bond, trying to make him fall in line. He snapped, eyes flaring bright gold as he swiped at her reaching hand with his claws.

"Leave me alone!" Peter roared, heart rapidly beating in his chest. He didn't understand. He and Talia had never fought like this. Fear and uncertainty were clogging his throat; his sister's pack bond felt chaffing instead of soothing. All he felt from her was anger and a desire to control him. It made him think of his father. It made him sick.

Peter ran out the door barefoot, racing through the trees. Talia's howl rang out behind him, but she didn't follow. Peter felt overwhelmed, furious, mortified. He and Talia had been a team from the first moment their father hit their mother. They'd both shared a look that day and that had sealed their father's fate. Peter trusted Talia with his life, but this wasn't about his life. This was about his happiness. In Talia's eyes, there was a ranking in the pack. Above all was the pack's wellbeing. Then her spouse's and children’s happiness. Then she’d allow a trickling into the extended family's happiness, if it didn't interfere with the first two.

Peter was still shaking a little when his feet brought him to a familiar porch. He brushed them off on the mat, hand hesitating to knock. Finally he let his fist fall against the doorframe, listing to the dull thud and almost turning tail to run before anyone could answer.

"Peter?"

Peter looked up into the open doorway, surely looking quite pathetic before his best friend. Stiles frowned in concern, hands coming up to grasp his shoulders, pulling him into the house.

"Are you okay?" Stiles asked, voice quiet as Peter practically melted against him, scenting him and hiding his face against his neck.

"Not particularly," Peter muttered, hands clutching at Stiles' sides.

"Come on, dude," Stiles murmured, coaxing him deeper in the house but not letting go of his hand. Peter held him like a lifeline.

"Peter. Wasn’t expecting you," Sheriff Stilinski said, leaning forward in his chair and turning down the baseball game on the TV. He frowned as he took in Peter's state, obviously upset, bare feet, shifty eyes. "Everything alright, son?"

"I just...needed a break. Sorry to intrude," he answered, looking down. He winced at the state of his feet, shuffling them awkwardly. "I should...probably go," he decided stiffly, pulling away from Stiles halfheartedly.

"Uh, no way," Stiles denied him, tugging him closer by his hand before gently pushing him down on the sofa. "Sit," he ordered before headed for the bathroom to grab a towel.

"You're always welcome here, Peter," the Sheriff reminded him gently, patting his shoulder.

Peter nodded stiffly, jaw clenched as his eyes prickled. He quickly wiped at his eyes, closing them shut to try and quell the oncoming tears. The Sheriff glanced up at his son came back into the room, nodding at Stiles’ look before standing to give the boys some privacy.

Peter jerked, startled, as something touched him. His eyes opened to see Stiles kneeling in front of him, gently grabbing his foot to wipe the dirt off his feet with a towel. Peter sniffled, weakly trying to pull away.

"It's okay, dude," Stiles murmured, glancing up at him with an affectionate smile. "Let me take care of you."

Peter's lower lip trembled and he bit it to try and stop it, nodding quickly before trying to hide the water welling up in his eyes with his hands. Stiles worked quickly but his touch remained light and gentle. He set the towel aside before climbing onto the couch, pulling Peter close until he was cuddled against Stiles’ side, nosing at the vulnerable skin of his neck and breathing in lungfuls of his calming scent. Stiles brushed his hand down Peter's back, softly humming some tune Peter had only ever heard from Stiles.

“Family drama?” Stiles asked, fingers idly twisting into the hair on the back of Peter's neck.

“Yeah,” Peter breathed out shakily, hands nervously grasping Stiles’ shirt, clenching and relaxing.

Stiles hummed, holding him a bit tighter. Peter sighed, slowly letting himself relax. “I...was telling Talia about my plans. For college.”

Stiles nodded, understanding. Peter had told Stiles months ago about his plan, about the designing company that had offered him a paid internship after they'd seen his submission. About his plans to move to New York, continue his schooling at FIT, earn a degree in his passion. Stiles was happy for his best friend; chances like that were rare, but Stiles knew Peter was talented and hadn't been surprised he'd been accepted into the program.

“She's hung up on me becoming a lawyer,” Peter spat, angry at having the needs of the pack put over his own desires. If she wanted a lawyer in the pack so badly, she could send Laura or Derek instead of letting her spawn run around as a selfish prima-donna with no goal beyond being the next Alpha or a reclusive book nerd who communicated mostly through looks, grunts, and his eyebrows.

“You’re not going to let her stop you, are you?” Stiles asked unsurely, leaning back into the couch cushions. “You’ve worked so hard for this, Peter; you can’t let her ruin it.”

Not for the first time, Peter wished he could tell Stiles about him being a werewolf. His friend rolled with the punches with most things, never commenting on Peter’s touchiness or his less-than-subtle scenting, not to mention the loads of other oddities his being a werewolf caused, but Talia had forbidden anyone in the Pack from revealing their secret to an outsider without her permission. Peter had tried multiple times to get Talia to consider lettering Stiles in on the secret, knowing the boy would be nothing but an assent to their Pack, but thus far she’d refused.

Peter sighed, dejected. He closed his eyes, relaxing against Stiles and just trying to not think about the storm waiting for him at home.

“I will fight her for you,” Stiles said, voice low and dangerous. Peter secretly preened at the idea of someone wanting him around that much, humming in acknowledgment but not verbally responding. “I’m serious. You deserve a pack that values you.”

Peter opened his eyes, confusion furrowing his brow as he pulled away to see Stiles looking completely serious.

“What?” he said, slowly processing the words Stiles had just said.

“Stiles, don’t go issuing a challenge to Alpha Hale on a whim,” Sheriff Stilinski sighed, returning to the room and giving his a son a deadpanned look. “You’re not the one who’d have to follow-through.”

“What?” Peter repeated, looking between the Sheriff and Stiles with increasing suspicion.

“I would,” Stiles said haughtily, raising his chin stubbornly as he met his dad’s gaze evenly. Peter blinked in surprise when Sheriff Stilinski’s eyes flared bright red at the blatant challenge and Stiles’ glowed purple in response before the boy looked away in deference.

“ _What_?” Peter stressed, standing and backing away from the other two.

“Fix your mess,” the Sheriff ordered Stiles, voice rumbling with the unmistakable tone of an Alpha. “I’ve got to get to work,” he said, pulling on his jacket and grabbing his keys. He smiled kindly at Peter, nodding. “Goodnight, Peter.” Then he slipped out the door.

Peter turned to Stiles. “Explain,” he demanded.

Stiles sighed, shifting on the couch and gesturing to the open spot beside him. “Will you at least sit?”

Peter hesitated before taking a seat, watching Stiles warily. It hurt, being suspicious of his best friend, but he had to think of the pack. Another Alpha in the territory was reason enough for concern, but he didn’t have a clue what Stiles was that his eyes glowed purple and not knowing made Peter nervous.

Stiles leaned forward, brushing his hands through his hair. “This wasn’t how I planned on telling you,” Stiles started, looking over at Peter. He frowned at seeing Peter sitting so tensely, obviously guarded, scent souring with distress. “I’m not going to hurt you, Peter. You’re my best friend,” Stiles murmured.

“I…I don’t understand,” Peter said, willing himself to calm down. This was still Stiles.

“My dad’s an Alpha werewolf,” Stiles said, turning to face Peter directly. “My mom was a witch. I’m a Spark,” he said. His eyes glowed purple again and Peter couldn’t look away, fascinated. “Sparks are different than witches. I have a lot more magic, but it took a lot for me to learn how to control it. Before we moved here, I, uh, well…” Stiles sighed, looking down. “I lost control and drew the attention of some hunters. We had to hide. My mom knew a spell to help us appear like normal humans as long as we all kept control of ourselves. Then she…” He paused and Peter bit his lip to keep from interrupting, knowing how Stiles’ mom was a sore spot. “Anyways, we knew this was Hale territory, but dad wasn’t looking to grow our pack or challenge anyone; we just wanted somewhere safe to settle down. Your pack is known for keeping the peace in your territory so we figured this would be a good place to lie low.”

“But why focus on me?” Peter asked, dreading the answer. He didn’t know if he could stomach knowing that he’d just been a pastime, a way for Stiles to keep tabs on the local pack, a tool, a—

“What? No, no, it’s not like that!” Stiles rushed, eyes widening in realization at where Peter’s thought process had gone. “I wasn’t going to have anything to do with any of you! I wasn’t confident in my ability to keep control at first anyways, especially around you guys where your super sniffers could figure me out at a single screw up. We all tried to keep to ourselves. But you’re just so…you! You’re awesome, dude; sarcastic and brilliant and, like, amazing. I couldn’t resist when you started in on Harris for his bullshit that day in class. And then we got paired in English, and we started hanging out, and…Peter, you’re my _best friend_.” Stiles reached out, hesitant, fear coating his words as his hands shook, inches from making contact with Peter’s own hands that were clutching at his legs until his knuckles turned white. “I’d never… _We’d_ never hurt you or your pack. You have to believe me,” he begged.

“This is a lot,” Peter murmured. His heart broke when Stiles’ face crumpled and the boy curled in on himself, covering his face with his hands and fighting back sobs.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve told you sooner,” Stiles cried, and Peter couldn’t take it, reaching out and wrapping his arms around Stiles, burying his face in the other’s shoulder.

“Dammit, Stiles, don’t cry,” he said, fighting back his own tears. “So not cool.”

Stiles hiccupped, crying or laughing, Peter wasn’t sure. He weakly returned the hold, nuzzling into Peter’s shoulder and sniffling.

“I don’t want to cause trouble for my dad, but I meant what I said,” Stiles murmured after they’d both collected themselves, exhaustedly leaning against each other. “I would totally fight Talia for you.”

Peter chuckled feebly, delirious. “I believe you,” he said, but he meant so much more. Stiles smiled weakly, nudging his shoulder with his own. Peter returned the touch.

They both jumped when Peter’s phone went off. He dug it out his pocket to stare at Talia’s name on the screen. He frowned, thumb wavering for only a moment before he rejected the call. Stiles laughed, curling into his side.

“You’re going to get an earful,” Stiles teased him lightly.

Peter threw his phone on the table, shifting and nuzzling against Stiles’ hair. “I already know what’s she’s going to say. She can’t get any madder.”

Stiles chuckled. “So you’re staying over then?”

“Obviously,” Peter responded, exhaustion settling in. He yawned and Stiles mimicked him.

“What you want to bet she sends Derek to track you?” Stiles asked sleepily, nuzzling under Peter’s chin.

“I’m not stupid,” Peter grumbled, rolling his eyes behind closed lids. “She’ll send Laura.”

Stiles snorted. “Ten bucks,” he murmured.

“Deal.”

…

Sheriff Stilinski stepped into the house, shaking his head as he spotted Stiles and Peter curled together on the couch, wondering if his son had finally confessed his obvious feelings for the wolf or if this was them just being ‘friends’ again. Either way, it seemed Peter hadn’t been scared off or called Talia’s wrath down on them, so he guessed Stiles had done something right.

He fought to not look at the golden eyes peeking into the window. Derek Hale was far from subtle, but a threat he was not.

He sighed wearily, wondering when this became his life, and headed to his room for some shuteye.

“You own me ten bucks,” Stiles slurred sleepily.

“Dammit,” Peter groaned, stretching out over Stiles and covering his giggling mouth with his hand. “Shut up,” he grumbled.

“I want it in curly fries.”

“I know,” Peter murmured. “Now go back to sleep.”

Stiles hummed a few bars of a song only he knew and Peter huffed, lips curling up fondly as he pressed a chaste kiss to Stiles’ neck. A pleased grin took over Stiles’ face, but neither said anything further, just snuggling closer and breathing each other in. Maybe they hadn’t gotten to discuss their feelings just yet, but at least they already knew they were mutual.

That was enough for now.


End file.
